Making a home
by rafestark
Summary: Angel Investigations deal with a massive influx of demons into LA, while Tara tries to work out what it is about an old friend of Faith's that's throwing the slayer off her game.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is copyright and not created or owned by me. References to characters, episodes and all other intellectual property related to the show below are made for entertainment only and I do not profit from it in any way.

* * *

"Cordy, I love you, but you have _got_ to ask the PTB for more specific visions." Gunn wearily followed the rest of the crew through the back garden of the Hyperion, ineffectively scraping at the viscous blood coating him.

"Sure, Gunn, no problem. 'Hey, Powers that Be! Could you send _more specific_ stomach-churning, brain-splitting images of terror and horror directly into my brain on a daily basis?'" Cordelia growled in a dangerously low voice. "It's not _my_ fault the Powers didn't mention it'd be a nest."

"Guys." Angel interrupted softly. "Give it a break, okay? We're all intact."

Nodding agreement, Tara walked past Angel and pushed open the back door to the hotel, only to stop a few steps inside the door at the sight of Faith standing in the lobby with a stranger.

"Hi!" Tara said a little too loudly. "I'm Tara...are you here to see Angel?" hoping the guys behind her got the hint to ditch the more conspicuous weapons, she continued down the stairs to extend a hand to the woman.

"Olivia." The newcomer offered, shaking Tara's hand. "And no, I'm not here to meet Angel – I'm actually here to see Faith." Tara glanced over at the woman in question, who stood silently ignoring them as she read what looked like a letter.

Tara was spared the need to make small talk as the rest of the group filed in, thankfully sans enormous weaponry. She stepped back to make room for the group to greet their visitor, and tuned out as Angel introduced himself and made lame excuses for the team's liberal coating of gore, turning instead to watch Faith more closely, who was unusually still and focussed.

In the time since Faith had been released from prison and Tara had gotten to know her slightly better, Faith was almost never still. Whether she was fighting, dancing, training or even just eating or sitting around bored, she was constantly on the move. It came as a shock, then, to see her so focussed, but even more surprising when Faith's head finally snapped up and, cutting through the polite conversation taking place around her, said, "Thanks. Will you be around long?"

Even Olivia seemed slightly confused by this outburst and took a second to answer. "Yeah, I'll be in town a couple of days – did you want to...talk?"

Faith was silent for a couple of seconds, and Angel took the opportunity to ask, "Where are you planning on staying, if you don't mind my asking?"

"No plans yet," the lady casually replied, "I just got in. Know any good hotels?"

Angel smiled. "How about this one?" he asked, looking at Faith to check the offer would be welcome. "It's a converted hotel, we don't rent the rooms out, but a few of us live here and we have some guest rooms you'd be more than welcome to choose from."

Olivia looked at Faith for confirmation. "Well, sure, if it'd be no problem...Faith? What do you think?"

"Sure, whatever." The Slayer replied. "Maybe we can talk later, Olivia. I really gotta jet. I got some stuff needs doin'." Without waiting for a reply, she dropped her letter on the table, picked up her jacket and strode off out the front door.

The group stood awkwardly for a moment. Cordelia eyed their guest suspiciously. "You are a _friend_ of Faith's, right? Not some bitch from the slammer hunting her down to blackmail her or something?"

Gunn snorted. "Subtle, Cordy."

Angel shot her a glare. "And this is who I have answering my phones." He mumbled. "Sorry, Olivia. Gunn, Wes, why don't you show Olivia the guest room and kitchen and help her with anything else she might need? I should go...help Faith. With her stuff."

Once Gunn, Wes and Olivia had gone upstairs, Angel turned to Cordelia. "What?" She asked. "You were all thinking it! How do we know she's legit? Hell, maybe she's looking to recruit Faith for a gang. I kinda got the impression that Faith didn't _have_ any friends that weren't us."

Angel sighed. "Tara? What was your read on Olivia?"

Tara, who ad been standing quietly nearby turned to look at the two. "Um, it's hard to explain. I only really get basic facets of character and glimpses of intention, which don't always make things clear. I can't know what the future holds for her, like Lorne, or anything. But from what I could see, she's honest, she's caring, and she was worried about Faith. I didn't get any ill-will or evil off her."

Cordelia threw up her hands. "Fine! Whatever. I'm going to go file tonight's vision under 'diced and done' then head home."

"Thanks Cordy. Tara, I'm going to go try to find Faith and keep an eye on her. Thanks for all your help tonight." Angel said, peeling off his latest ruined jacket.

"You don't trust her?" Tara asked.

Grabbing his spare coat from his office, Angel walked back to where Tara was standing. "With everything but her own well-being."

Tara nodded, satisfied he wasn't assuming she would be attacking anyone. Since Faith's return from prison, she had done nothing to suggest she had changed her mind about redemption, and Tara's surface readings of her aura had backed that up.

"I'm coming with you." Tara said. By now, Angel knew better than to argue with the witch when she took on this tone. He nodded, grabbed a small sword from the cabinet to conceal under his coat, and they left.


	2. Chapter 2

_Please see chapter 1 for disclaimer_

It didn't take the two long to find Faith. By this time, Angel knew the woman's haunts fairly well, and was not surprised to find her drinking and dancing at one of the seedier bars of her preference.

"Tara..." he began, sensing the slayer's presence from the outside, "are you sure you don't want to wait out here? This place isn't very...nice." He finished lamely.

Tara laughed. "Angel. I work for you killing evil monsters. It's a bit late to start worrying about 'nice', don't you think? Come on." And she lead the way inside.

Faith was easy to spot. She had developed her own fan club on the dance floor and was taking full advantage of the fact.

"What now?" Tara asked.

"Now," Angel answered, "I usually get a drink and wait, and do my best to make sure she stays safe without...well, interrupting her fun."

"Does she know you do this?" Tara asked, finding it hard to tear her eyes away from the dancing  
slayer.

Angel shrugged. "We never talk about it, but slayers can sense vampires at a fair distance, and she's never looked at me or accidentally tried to stake me. I think she knows. Some nights when she's really on a tear I lose her. It probably isn't an accident."

Tara nodded, and then frowned as Faith dragged one of the guys she was dancing with off the floor and over to a dark staircase. Watching as the two disappeared from sight at the top, Tara turned to Angel. "What now?"

"Tara...she was pulling him along. I think she knows what she's doing." Angel looked slightly awkward.

"They're...oh. So this isn't following time?" She asked, turning back to the staircase as if a second look would reveal more information.

"Well," Angel began, getting distracted by something on the other side of the room, "you can if you like. I mean, I never have, but...if you read something dangerous about him, or..."

"Apart from the fact that he's a bulky biker?" Tara gave him a hard look.

"Come on, Tara. I can't tell her who to have sex with. She can protect herself. And I need to go take care of that vamp." He said, nodding in the direction he'd been staring as a pale woman coxed a young man outside with her. "I'll be back soon."

Tara looked back at the stairs, torn. What Angel had said was true. She couldn't decide who her friends had sex with any more than she wanted them to do the same for her. But Faith was part of their team, part of her new home that she'd grown to care about a great deal. Sighing, Tara made a decision. She'd go upstairs. Just long enough to make sure Faith was okay.

Making it to the top of the stairs as quietly as she could, Tara waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Taking in the assorted couches and condom dispenser, she concluded that Faith's idea was not a new one for this club. There were two couples in the room, that much she could tell, and as her eyes began to register more details, she worked out the pair against the wall on the far side of the room were not who she was looking for. Turning to look at the remaining two on top of a converted couch, she winced. The guy Faith was with was massive, and looked about as gentle as a Rottweiler.

But while he looked like he could crush Faith's skull with one giant hand, Tara knew looks were deceptive and tried to keep in mind Faith's slayer strength. She was certainly using it now. Every time the guy tried to flip Faith so he was on top, she shoved him back into the couch. It was obvious who was in control, and while the guy might not have preferred it, he wasn't exactly complaining. From what Tara could tell, he was, in fact, complying with everything Faith told him to do. Admittedly, all that consisted of was 'Harder!'.

Feeling slightly sick and guiltily voyeuristic Tara knew she had established Faith's safety to her own satisfaction, but watched for a second more. Ogling Faith was something she had tried hard not to do since the woman returned from prison. Partly out of a sense of decency, and partly because of the knowing smirk it prompted the few times Faith had caught her at it.

Finding it almost impossible to look away from this opportunity to do so unnoticed, Tara forced her eyes shut. '_Privacy_.' She thought to herself. '_She deserves some privacy_.' Putting aside for the moment the fact that privacy wasn't exactly a high priority for someone getting laid in the back of a club in L.A. Tara forced down the sudden and surprising urge to teleport Faith's partner to another dimension, and quietly made her way down the stairs to wait with Angel.

Not finding her boss upon returning downstairs, Tara decided to grab a drink and wait at the bar. It was here that she almost choked to death on her drink a while later when a husky voice whispered in her ear, "Enjoy the show?"

Waving off the concern of the bartender as she tried to cough the burning alcohol out of her lungs, Tara slowly turned to look at Faith. "Sorry?" she asked, at a loss for words, and trying desperately to think of a good reason to be here in the first place, let alone having watched her co-worker doing a biker within an inch of his life.

A seductive smile spread across Faith's face. "Upstairs." She clarified. "If you wanted a piece of me, all you had to do was ask." Moving even closer to the witch, putting one hand on her thigh, Faith reached the other hand over her shoulder. Tara's breath hitched unintentionally, and then released again as Faith brought back Tara's drink having grabbed it from the counter behind her, and took a sip. "Mm, whiskey." Faith breathed. "You like it...strong." She added with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Tara groaned internally. She wasn't built for playing the kind of games that Faith so obviously enjoyed. "I'm sorry about upstairs. Wanted to make sure that you were alright." Faith grinned at this.

"I've been told I'm better than 'alright' – but how did you think I was?"

Feeling trapped in a minefield of innuendo, Tara took her drink back off Faith and took a fortifying swig. Ignoring the suggestive tone of the slayer's voice, Tara answered in the vein of her original meaning. "And you're obviously fine, so I should go." Standing up, Tara groaned as this left her body in serious contact with the brunette, who hadn't moved.

"No, stay." Faith answered, putting a hand on her hip. "The night is young."

Taking a deep breath, Tara tried to slow her heartbeat. It had been a while, and Faith was undeniably gorgeous. But the slayer had been drinking, she had just come from screwing the biker from hell, and she usually only went out like this when things weren't right. Tara couldn't bring herself to take advantage of that. Sighing, she put her hands on Faith's shoulders and leaned in close to her ear to make sure she was heard.

"Faith. I won't lie to you – you're beautiful, and I'd be lucky. But if we ever had sex, it might be rough or gentle, it might be fast or slow, it might be a bit kinky. It might even be in the back of a night club, and it would definitely be satisfying. But I can tell you what it wouldn't be – it wouldn't be about using each other, and it wouldn't be about fear. Be safe tonight, okay? I'll see you back at the hotel."

Faith was left stunned as she watched the witch sway out of the club to where she could sense Angel waiting. Shifting uncomfortably she realised the woman had left her more than a little turned on with her final statement, and feeling...exposed. Shit. Leaving the club by the staff exit out back, she disappeared into the night to find some demons and do some damage.

* * *

Angel and Tara went back to the hotel in silence. Opening the door, both were surprised to find most of the gang still up chatting.

"Faith okay?" Gunn asked, noticing their entrance.

Angel nodded. "She's fine. Night all." And disappeared into his office.

"Chatty guy." Olivia noted.

Tara smiled, relaxing a bit in the familiar surroundings. "He's sort of...stoic. But a good boss." She walked down the front steps to join them on the couch.

"Speaking of which," Wes piped up, "I should get some sleep. He's not going to be impressed if we're all late tomorrow because of tonight's, uh..." Wes screwed up his face as he provided Angel's former excuse for their layers of multi-coloured gore, "paintball adventures."

"Yeah," Gunn agreed, standing, "Nice to meet you,'livia, but I should get back to my crew, see how they're all doin'. See you all tomorrow."

"Night guys." Tara fare-welled them, smiling as they stopped at the door to perform a complicated manly handshake.

Turning back to Olivia once they had left, Tara asked, "Did the guys find you a room? Need any help setting up?"

"Yeah, I'm all sorted, thanks." The woman relied. "I just wanted to grab you for a minute to make sure Faith's actually okay."

Tara settled back into the couch with a speculative look at the woman. Seeing only honest concern, she thought through her answer. "Can I ask how you know her?"

"Well," Olivia began, "I'm not 'from the slammer here to blackmail her', if that's what you're asking." She finished with a smile.

Tara laughed slightly. "Sorry about that. We're all sort of protective of our friends and Cordy's a bit...blunt."

"I can see that." Olivia answered. "Can I ask why she'd assume I'm from prison, though?"

"I think she assumed that's where you knew Faith from." Tara responded with a shrug. "I take it that's not the case?"

Olivia was silent for a minute. "Faith's done time?"

"Ah." Tara moved in her chair, the moment becoming a bit more awkward. "Yes. Two years, for murder." She would have felt guilty about revealing Faith's secrets, except for Faith's obvious unconcern about sharing this fact with others in the past.

"Shit." Olivia said, eyes widening in a bit of shock. "Only two years for murder?"

Tara ran a hand through her hair. "Look, Olivia, I'd like to know a little bit more about how you know Faith before we discuss this further, and I'm getting the impression it might take a while. Did you want to grab some coffee and we could sit in one of our rooms where it's a bit warmer and more comfortable?

"Sure." The woman answered simply, and followed Tara to make the coffee.


	3. Chapter 3

_Please see chapter 1 for disclaimer_

* * *

"Okay," Tara began, settling on her bed and gesturing for Olivia to make herself comfortable on a nearby lounge chair, "so how do you know Faith?"

Their visitor took a sip of her coffee and gathered her thoughts. "I'm a cop. About five years ago I worked a case that Faith had some information related to. I don't know anything about her life since then, and I just came to give her some information and catch up on how she's been while I'm here."

Tara nodded, remembering the letter Faith had been reading. "Okay. So you wanted to know how Faith ended up in prison?" At Olivia's nod, Tara tried to gather her thoughts.

"I'll try not to tell you any more than Faith would want me to, but I think it's safe to give you a bit of an explanation. Faith killed someone by accident one night, and as it turned out, he worked for a local...uh...gang boss.

"So this guy hears about Faith, gets to know her, and I think actually feels some kind of fatherly affection for her. But he basically hires her as a hitman and convinces her it's okay to kill. She kills a couple of people for him, but ends up getting caught by...the cops...and badly hurt. She was in a coma for about 8 months and when she woke up, ran to LA.

"She was out of control and did a bit of damage until she met our boss, Angel, a private investigator who had been investigating _her_ boss way back when. Long story short, Angel convinced her that she could still change, and she turned herself in."

Tara felt slightly guilty at blurring the truth, but could hardly have explained about the Mayor, Buffy and Faith's calling. She drank some of her coffee while Olivia sat back absorbing it all.

"And the two year sentence?" The cop prompted.

"That I'm not entirely sure about. Most of this is second hand information. I only met Faith properly after she was released. But from what I understand, she got such a short sentence because her confession was pretty much the only evidence against her and she was a model prisoner." Tara finished. She didn't think the policewoman would be very impressed if she mentioned the number of people who had pulled strings to get Faith released, even if it was to save lives.

After a moment's silence, Tara spoke up again. "So, you don't really strike me as a beat cop. Should I be calling you Detective?"

"Just Olivia is fine. But yes...I'm a detective." The woman nodded.

Tara put her head to the side in thought. "SVU, right?"

The woman's eyebrows shot up. "Good guess. Am I dropping a trail of Victim's Services cards?" She glanced around.

Tara smiled. "Nothing like that, Detective. Let's just say you all have certain traits I notice." Not being able to explain the combination of factors in her aura which led to the guess, Tara hoped she wouldn't question it further.

"All of us, huh? And how many of us have you met?" Olivia looked at Tara with the compassion that was one of the clues in her aura.

"Can't leave your job at home, huh Detective?" Tara answered with a slight smile. "No offence, but more than anyone ever really should." She finished with a sigh. Olivia just nodded.

"Did you ever hear about the 'Wheel of Fire'?" She continued.

"I'm assuming you're not talking about the rollercoaster." The detective answered, looking for more context.

"It was the media's name for a fairly sizeable bust by FBI and SVU detectives from a few different jurisdictions a few years ago." Tara prompted.

Understanding dawned in Olivia's head. "The sexual sadists. They were corresponding on the net, some of them picked up their vics there – we ended up busting something like 20 of them across America."

"Yeah, well." Tara averted her eyes and drank more coffee. "Dad's still serving his sentence." She finished with a shrug. "So I got to chat to plenty of SVU detectives for a while there."

"I'm so sorry." Olivia sat back running a hand through her hair. "I'm glad they caught him."

"Thanks. I"ll understand if you refuse, but can I ask what news you gave Faith? She just seemed... upset." Tara gently probed.

The detective bit her lip in thought. "Look..her and I aren't best friends or anything, but I don't want to break her confidence. She wasn't a real trusting person before she went to jail, I can just imagine what she's like now.

"But I'll let you read the letter I gave her, because she left it lying round after she ran off, and you can say you didn't get it from me, okay? Any more than that you'll have to ask Faith." Pulling the retrieved letter out of her coat pocket, Olivia handed it to Tara.

The letter contained very little information. It looked like an official notice from a state penitentiary, notifying Faith that a Robert Denning had died. Folding it back up, Tara returned it to the cop.

"Thank you."

"So, how did you end up working for a P.I?" the visitor asked.

Glancing at the clock, Tara looked back at her. "That might be a question for another day, Detective. It's getting a bit late, and mine is not a great line of work for lapses of attention."

"You're not wrong." Olivia replied, standing up and stretching. "Thanks for the coffee and the information. And the trust. Guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight." Tara replied, taking the woman's cup along with hers and slowly walking down to the kitchen, considering what had – and what hadn't – been said.

Stopping near the bottom of the stairs as she heard a noise, Tara looked around the moonlit lobby. Faith was stumbling across the room mid-kiss with a man – a different one, Tara noted – groping her. Breaking off the kiss and hooking her head over his shoulder, Faith looked directly at Tara and smiled as the guy continued fumbling under her clothes.

Her heart returning to a normal pace after realising it wasn't a demon come to murder them in their sleep, Tara looked away and continued to the kitchen where she washed the cups and put them away.

Walking back out into the lobby she noticed the two hadn't made it up to Faith's room yet, but had continued their explorations against a wall. Tara would have walked past again, ignoring them, except that at that moment, the guy took a step back, presumably to move the fun upstairs. As Faith stepped forward to follow him, she stumbled in an uncharacteristically graceless movement that told Tara she was drunk beyond belief, given her extremely high tolerance.

Tara debated internally for a moment. '_Screw it. She can blow me up in the morning_.' Murmuring some words to herself, Tara cast two separate gentle levitation spells. One on Faith, to prevent her falling and cracking her head on something, and one on the would-be Romeo.

Floating him out the door, much to his drunken confusion, she followed and waved down a cab, dumping him it. Moving back into the hotel, she tried to stifle a laugh at Faith swimming in mid-air in an attempt to regain the ground. Walking up in clear view, so as not to surprise the intoxicated slayer, Tara tried to get her attention.

"Sweetie, if you stop moving and get ready, I can set you down gently."

"I dunno..." Faith slurred, starting a slight uncontrolled spin, "this is sort of fun. C'n you fly me up to the roof?"

"Maybe sometime when I'm not afraid you'll puke on my head, hon. Let's get you to bed, okay?"

* * *

Sitting on the edge of the bed she'd finally convinced the slayer to get into, Tara handed her a glass of water and some aspirin. "Drink up, or you'll feel like hell tomorrow."

Faith gestured dismissively. "Slayer healing."

"Have you remembered that you were going to hit that new vampire gang with Gunn bright and early?" Tara pushed.

Faith groaned and accepted the drink and pills, causing Tara to smile. "Night, Faith." Tara stood up to leave, but stopped, hearing a whisper. "Sorry?" She asked, unsure that the slayer had actually said something.

"I said, 'Tara'." Faith repeated, her eyes turned down into her glass.

"Here I am. What did you want?" the blonde asked, sensing a slightly more serious question in the offing.

"Uh, I had planned...I mean, I was gonna ask tonight – that is, before Liv showed up – I was gonna ask you something." Faith picked slightly too violently at the covers of her bed as she forced this sentence out.

Tara sat back down on the side of the bed. "Well, you can ask now, if you'd like?" she encouraged quietly. There was a short silence while the brunette obviously worked herself up to something.

"I wanted to ask...why are you always so nice to me? I mean, I figured maybe no one had told you 'bout me, what I've done, but Angel reckons he has. Then I figured, well maybe you wanted to fuck. But you turned me down tonight. I just...I'm not sure what you want."

Tara tried not to let the ache this caused inside her show, fearing the slayer would misinterpret it. She thought for a minute about how to answer the question in a way that wouldn't be dismissive or make the woman feel embarrassed for airing her feelings the next day.

"Faith," Tara began, "I've been told what you've done. Which is even slightly unfair, because you don't know all that much about me. And of course I don't approve of murder or t-torture. But you've changed. I'm not afraid of you – I like you. You're part of the team, and I consider you a friend. I hope you feel the same about me."

"But – "

Sensing an argument, Tara uncharacteristically interrupted. "Sweetie, it's late. I'd be happy to explain more to you why I feel that way, but maybe we should leave it until tomorrow?"

Cautiously and ready for rejection, Tara leaned down and gave Faith a gentle hug. "Sleep well. I'll see you tomorrow."

For the second time in one night, Faith was left in shock by the newest member of the L.A. Crew.


	4. Chapter 4

_Please see chapter 1 for disclaimer and warnings_

* * *

Breakfast was a muted affair as the members of Angel Investigations slowly trickled in after the particularly brutal battle the night before.

Tara was mid-pancake when Cordelia dropped gracelessly down next to her. "I don't get paid enough for this." The receptionist groaned into the hands covering her face.

Tara gave her a comforting pat on the back. "That's why we get pancakes, Cordelia. And Angel went out to get coffee earlier this morning. Would you like some?" At the Seer's nod, Tara got up to load a plate and pick up a styrofoam cup of wakefulness. Seeing Faith stumble down the stairs, she made it two cups of the fresh coffee and handed them to grateful co-workers.

"Geez Faith – you look terrible. Is there any alcohol _left_ in L.A?" Cordy snarked.

Faith, whose head had taken residence on the table after a hearty swig of her coffee, just raised one hand and gave the finger.

Tara laughed at Cordelia's surprise. "Hard to argue with that, Cordy." Picking up the plates and taking them to the kitchen, Tara heard Cordelia's scream and a thump and raced back into the room to see the seer arching in pain as Faith tried to hold and comfort her. "Angel, Wes...fighting Predator...subways." She ground out, still tense from pain as the images began to recede.

Tara ran back to the kitchen to tell Angel, leaving Faith to take care of the actress. "Yo, Cordy. Y'alright?" Faith quietly asked, feeling stupid and self-conscious as she brushed hair out of the woman's face and continued to softly stroke her head in an attempt to soothe.

"That depends," the seer replied, "on whether the supernova that exploded in my head has gone."

"Sure," Faith answered easily, "I beat it up. It went to sulk."

"Thanks, Faith." Cordelia whispered, satisfied to stay where she was, slightly surprised that the girl holding her was being so caring.

"S'nothin." Faith mumbled, looking up as Angel and Wesley entered, her eyes challenging them to comment on her position.

"Ah, you alright Cordelia?" Wesley inquired.

"Peachy." She replied. "Thanks Wes. The evil is in the subways, and it's ugly as hell – I just saw you guys fighting it, didn't seem to be threatening anyone in particular or anything."

Angel nodded his understanding. "Well take the sewers, they connect up. Come on Wes. Thanks Cordy, take care."

After a few minutes silence, the seer spoke up. "I should get off you."

"No rush, Cordy. I mean, unless you want to." Faith shrugged, glancing round to see if she could reach her coffee.

"Maybe a few more –"

"Faith!" Gunn yelled from the lobby. "Yo, Faith! Rise and shine, we got some vamps to dust!"

" – minutes." Cordelia finished lamely. "Or, not." She pushed herself into a sitting position. "Faith – thanks."

The slayer stood up, shoving her hands in her pockets, defensive attitude coming once more to the fore. "Yeah it's nothing."

Not letting her get away with it for once, Cordelia put a hand on Faith's shoulder and forced her to make eye contact. "No, Faith I appreciate it. Just say 'You're welcome' and go kill some bad guys."

"Uh...you're welcome. I'm gonna..."

"Go." Cordelia gave her a gentle shove, watching as Faith trotted out to join Gunn, only to squeal and spin in shock as she felt a hand on her back.

"Great steaming demon blood, Tara – don't _do _that. Twitchy evil-fighting reflexes, remember?"

Tara failed to hide her skeptical smirk. "Okay, fine." Angel's receptionist qualified, "evil-_fleeing_ reflexes, whatever. No sneaking up!"

"Sorry Cordelia – I wondered if you wanted some aspirin?" the witch asked, holding out the pack.

Cordy smiled her forgiveness and accepted them. "Thanks, Tara, that would be great."

"She surprised you, didn't she?" Tara asked, taking a seat at the table.

"Well," Cordelia acknowledged with a nod, "she was giving me the finger just seconds before. But honestly, yeah. I mean, I know she fights the good fight now, but...it's hard to reconcile how she is now with how she was before. I mean, she _tortured Wes_. You should have seen him."

Tara nodded. "I get that. I'm glad you're giving her a chance to change, though."

"What the hell. I'm living with one converted psycho serial killer, how much more dangerous can two be?" Cordelia looked up as the phone rang. "I should get that. Leave the rest of the dishes, I've got them."

Tara sat back in thought, tuning out the "...we help the helpless" in the background and considering how best to help Faith. Over the months since the woman had returned from prison, Tara had done her best to be a good friend. But she wasn't entirely sure what to do with the information Olivia disclosed to her, or whether she should do anything. Asking Faith point blank might just cause the girl to withdraw, but going behind her back to get the information may destroy the relationship they had built.

"Heads up!" Cordelia interrupted her musings, sticking her head around the doorway. "Good news! We've got a wealthy adulterer to catch in the act."

"Cordy!" Tara shouted after the woman, who had promptly disappeared from sight. "Crap." She grumbled. Standing up and looking around for her, Tara tried to be the voice of reason.

"Cordelia – you know Angel doesn't like taking these cases." She pointed out, doing her best to keep up as the receptionist hunted round for their employer's surveillance equipment.

Coming to an abrupt halt and suddenly faced with flashing brown eyes, Tara took a step back.

"Maybe you don't mind living in this creepy demon-haunted dusty relic, but some of us have rent to pay." Cordelia gestured broadly. "The only thing worse than working for money is working for _no _money! It's all very well for the leather-clad undead to refuse easy cash, all he does for fun is sit and stare. But just 'cause I battle evil doesn't mean I'm going to live like a nun!"

Tara let the tirade wash over her, knowing that Cordelia wasn't mad at her, or even Angel for that matter. She had only ever known the woman as a Seer, but knew the gift had been received, not inherited – and as such, that it must be difficult to live with.

"Um, sorry to interrupt..." a voice floated over from the stairs, causing both women to turn in surprise, "...but is there any coffee around here?"

"Oh Liv, hey, good morning." Tara quickly recovered. "We're just about to go out on a case," she added, shooting Cordy a conciliatory glance, "Just a stakeout, so probably pretty boring for you, but we can drop you off to grab coffee or go shopping or whatever you'd like on the way?"

Their guest smiled in sympathy. "I don't envy you – stakeouts are never fun." Taking another quick look around the lobby, she asked, "Everyone else out, too? I appreciate your offer, but I was hoping to catch up with Faith sooner rather than later."

"She's out tying up an old case with Gunn, but she shouldn't be more than a half hour – help yourself to pancakes and coffee." Tara answered.

"We'll be back with the fruit of somebody else's vice and treachery!" Cordelia added cheerfully. "And maybe tacos."


	5. Chapter 5

iPlease see chapter 1 for disclaimer/i

* * *

"Faith -what the hell? We came here to dust 'em, not to pulp 'em." Gunn asked when the Slayer had finally stopped beating on the final vampire.

The whole idea had been to take the nest out quickly and quietly while they slept, and Gunn stuck to the plan, ending a few undead lives in as many minutes. Faith, however had intentionally woken the rest up and brutally whaled on them long past their ability to fight back.

"Dead is dead." She answered with a shrug, visibly puffed and slightly shaky after the violent exertion. "Any more nests in the area?"

"Not that I know of." Gunn answered. "'Sides – I don't know how much of that is yours, but we should probably get back to the hotel and make sure." He added, gesturing to Faith's bloodied hands.

"Alright, whatever." Faith answered, following Gunn out of the night club's basement. She was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, and grimaced in sudden remembrance of why she'd gone on a binge in the first place. "Actually, second thoughts Gunn – why don't you just drop me off at the Stallion. They got a washroom."

"You sure they'll even let you in like that?" Gunn asked, a bit unsure as to what Angel would want him to do.

Faith snorted. "You've obviously never been there. They'd let me in if I cut that last vamp open and wore him like an undead coat. C'mon, I'll give you directions."

Gunn just shrugged. Far as he could tell, Faith could do what she liked, and even though he worked for Angel, that didn't mean he had to make every decision the Old Man would want.

* * *

Gunn strolled into the Hyperion after dropping Faith at the bar and threw the keys to Angel's ride onto the reception bench. "'lo!? Anybody home?" he called out.

Olivia stuck her head around a doorway. "Hey Gunn. Want a coffee?"

"Sure." He replied easily, wandering through to join her. "Angel not in?"

"I don't know where he got to – haven't seen him this morning. Tara and Cordelia went to keep a profitable eye on some infidelity." The cop answered.

Gunn had to smile, thinking how happy that would have made Cordelia.

"And Faith?" The woman added. "Tara told me she was with you."

"Ah, yeah," he answered, taking a swig of coffee, "she was. I just dropped her at a bar downtown, though. Hair of the dog that bit her, I guess. Or maybe mauled would be more accurate." He laughed, thinking back on Faith's uncharacteristic hangover when he'd first shown up.

Liv raised her eyebrows speculatively. That answered the question of what 'stuff' Faith had had to do last night. "Gunn, could you do me a favour and take me there?" she asked.

"No problem. It isn't exactly a class joint, though." He warned.

"It's okay," Live assured him, grabbing her jacket off a nearby chair, "I've been into plenty of those."

* * *

Stepping into the bar Gunn had pointed out, Liv waited a minute for her eyes to adjust. Scanning the room, her eyes eventually alighted on the girl...woman she'd come to L.A. to visit. It seemed the defensive kid full of attitude she had met five years ago had been pretty busy since then. Wandering over and taking a seat next to Faith, Olivia ordered a beer before turning to look at her.

"Hi." She began.

Faith sighed. "There isn't any way you'll just let it go, is there?"

Liv shifted in her seat, carefully considering her answer.

"Faith...I'm not here to hassle you. I just know that the news in that letter must be a bit of a shock, and not particularly detailed. I thought you might have some questions, or want a friendly face. But when it comes down to it, I do think that talking is usually the best policy."

"Yeah, well – as far as I'm concerned, forgetting is the best policy. Only thing that letter changes is making that harder for a while." Faith replied downing another shot.

"From what I hear, you've had a busy few years. But do you honestly think you'll ever actually forget?" Liv questioned sincerely.

Faith was silent for a while. "How did it happen?" she finally asked softly.

"Beaten, raped and shivved. Denning was a big guy, but if you wait long enough, there's always someone bigger." Liv supplied matter-of-factly.

Faith forced a smile, looking down into her glass. "Even in prison, no-one likes a kiddy fiddler. So, what?" She asked, suddenly turning and looking Olivia in the eye. "Should I feel glad? Bummed that he only did five years? Angry that I wasn't the one to slide the knife in? I don't know what the hell to think."

The detective held her stare, surprised by an honesty from Faith that she had never really seen before. "All those things, or none of those things. There's no right or wrong way to feel, Faith. But however you feel, you need to deal with it and try to lay it to rest, or it'll keep eating you up."

Faith looked back down at her glass, and gestured the bartender over for another shot. As he was pouring it, Liv caught his eye and mouthed "how much?" pointing to Faith. Holding u the large but nearly empty bottle, the man indicated that it used to be full, and walked away. She turned back to look at Faith in a bit of shock, carefully searching again for the signs of drunkenness that must have escaped her previously. She had known guys who could hold that much alcohol in one sitting, but usually they were pretty messy by the end of it. Faith barely looked fazed as she swallowed the recently provided shot.

"Faith – how about we go back to the hotel? We can talk more there, if you'd like." Liv gently prompted.

"Yeah, alright." Faith answered. Pushing herself to her feet, she dropped money on the bar and walked out with only a slight sway testifying to how much she'd had to drink. Nodding her thanks to the bartender, Liv followed her out.

* * *

Returning to the Hyperion, Faith and Olivia pushed open the door to discover Angel and Cordelia mid-blow-out, with the rest of the gang in various states of awkwardness around the room.

"I don't pay you to run off half-cocked accepting jobs on false pretenses!" Angel growled inches from Cordelia's face.

"You don't _pay_ me!" Cordelia shouted back. "It's great that you have a system of ethics these days, Angel, but this is a business! The lady wanted something done and was willing to pay for it, we did it and now can get paid, end of story!"

"Geez, guys." Faith interrupted, "just do the nasty and get it over with, will you?"

Cordelia shot Faith a filthy look before storming out muttering things about keeping all the money for herself, while Angel looked embarrassed to have his guest as a witness.

Ignoring them all and turning back to Liv, Faith said a lot more quietly, "I've had enough for today, Olivia. Think I'll try and get some sleep." Stepping down and walking through the lobby, Faith patted Angel on the ass on her way to the stairs that led up to her room. "Night all."

Tara stood up in the silence that followed, and asked, "Lunch, anyone?"


	6. Chapter 6

_Please see chapter 1 for disclaimer & warnings_

* * *

The meal turned out to be a fairly segregated affair, with a variety of bad moods and exhaustion leading most to take their food to their rooms. Tara had taken hers out to the courtyard to enjoy the sun, and wasn't particularly surprised to be joined by the detective a few minutes later.

"Sorry you came in in the middle of that." Tara pre-empted any questions. "Tensions often run a bit high after a late night at work."

"Clearly." Liv answered with a smile after she had swallowed her mouthful of taco. "I won't be stepping on any toes for much longer, anyway – I"ll probably leave late tomorrow or early the next day."

"You'd be welcome to stay longer," Tara answered, "but I can't imagine you taking any more time off work than you have to."

"My job is my life." Liv offered in agreement. "Speaking of which, I wanted to ask you something really out of line."

"You can ask," Tara allowed, "but I might not answer."

"Fair enough." The cop replied. "I was wondering if you ever talked to anyone about what went on with your dad."

"How do you mean?" Tara sought qualification. "I filed a report and testified after the bust...or did you mean while it was happening?"

"Oh, no, actually I meant more in terms of counselling." Olivia clarified.

"Oh, right." Tara took another bite of her taco and considered how to answer, and whether or not she wanted to. "Yeah, a bit. Not so much details or specific events, but we chatted a bit about social interactions, that not everyone was like my dad, that I wasn't like he said I was, and that not everyone gets off on suffering."

Olivia had to strain to hear as Tara progressively got softer and then mumbled the last into her food. Clenching her jaw, the detective tried to stay calm enough to give the girl's trust the response it deserved. "I'm glad you got some help. You seem pretty amazingly well adjusted. I only asked because – well, professional hazard. Wanted to make sure you had some kind of support."

"Thanks for the concern," Tara answered with a slight smile, "I've had some pretty amazing friends since I left home. Most of the time that's plenty of support. There are always moments, you know, and things about who I am as a person because of different experiences. But most of the time my past stays in the past."

Olivia nodded, eating some more of her lunch. Sensing it was time for a change in topic, she commented "So, I wouldn't really have picked you as the sleuthing type."

Tara laughed, picturing herself as Sherlock Holmes. "No, not exactly." The witch admitted. "It wasn't my intended career path, but Angel is my ex-girlfriend's best-friend's ex-boyfriend." She paused a moment to run it through in her head again to see if it made sense, and added, "Well, we vaguely knew each other. And when I moved to L.A. He offered me a job. Mainly I help with research." Wondering briefly what it meant that she found spinning half-truths for the detective so easy, Tara considered levitating the woman and to hell with the consequences. Grinning slightly at the prospect, she returned her attention to her companion.

"Bet you see some pretty crazy stuff doing your job in this city." Olivia responded. Tara's smile widened as she considered even their most run-of-the-mill cases. "Like you wouldn't believe." She agreed wryly.

* * *

Angel sat in his darkened office trying to come to grips with the confusion his life had become.

When he had been evil, things were very clear cut. Angelus knew what he wanted, and pursued it with relentless zeal. But since getting his soul back, things had gotten murkier.

Admittedly, Whistler had given him a plan and a purpose for a while – actively work for the side of good, for redemption. And at the time that had purely meant assisting Buffy in every way he could. As the relationship between them grew, any grey areas were made clear by the simple question of what was best for Buffy.

But since he had moved to LA he was winging it. The Powers sent him snippets of information to respond to how he chose. The questions of how best to help people, which people to help (occasional migraine inducing clips aside) and how to function and interact within a world which refused to even acknowledge the existence of the evil he fought daily were not things the Powers chose to comment on.

And nothing demonstrated his inability to balance his life properly better than his relationship with Cordelia. What did he know about employees, paychecks, running a business or having friends? His world was darkness and death, the memories of a serial killer and the body of a man born before all the inventions his co-workers took for granted. He had no interest in money, which he had seen come and go and could acquire any time he needed it, or infidelity, which was primarily a concern of the living. But his employees needed money, and the cause of Good was best served by him having employees.

Running a hand over his eyes, Angel lazily spun on his office chair and only barely managed to disguise his shock at discovering Wes in his office.

"Pondering our newest adversary?" Wes asked in the tone of someone who assumed they already knew the answer. "Well, ponder no longer Angel. I've managed to find him." Wes tapped the page of a tome in his hand before passing it to his boss.

Angel accepted the book with a slight twinge of guilt. He hadn't even thought about the demon they had defeated in the subways after having recognised it for what it was and killing it an hour earlier. Tact dictated that he not mention to Wes that the research had been redundant, though, so the vampire read over the information presented.

"Thanks, Wes. Any thoughts on what this 'event' the 'appearance of the daemon preceedeth' is?" Angel asked, looking up.

"Ah, no, not really." The one-time watcher admitted. "Although, I think we can safely assume we'd like to prevent it."

"Yeah." Angel agreed absently. "Okay, Wes, you can have an early one if you like. Gunn, Faith and I will see if we can't scare up some more information on this 'event'." He stood up to start finding the others and handing out jobs.

"Right-o" Wes agreed, picking up his book. "I'll do some cross-referencing, see if I can't find something with a bit more detail for you. See you tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 7

_Please see chapter 1 for disclaimer and warnings_

After gathering the members of his crew, Angel gave a quick explanation of the bare bones they currently knew.

"So basically this 'event' could be anything at all." Gunn summarised in disgust.

"My money's on an apocalypse." Faith offered confidently.

"Maybe it's something nice for once." Cordelia suggested, with more hope than conviction in her voice. "You know...the appearance of the demon comes before...world peace!" Faith snorted at this possibility, while everyone else just looked at the receptionist. "Fighting evil has made you all cynical." Cordy sighed.

"It's sort of vague, isn't it." Tara mused in the silence that followed. "Because, everything that happens after you saw the demon is an event which is preceded by its appearance."

"Which is why we have to narrow it down." Angel quickly added, forestalling any further debate. "Gunn, I want you to check with your old gang, see if anyone's heard or seen anything strange recently. Faith, Tara, I want you two to start at Caritas. See if Lorne has had any interesting readings lately. Chat to some customers, then work through our regular demon informants and contacts. I'm going to go talk to some lawyers." Angel started to walk away, instructions given.

"Hey!" Cordelia threw after him. "What about me? Am I being punished for today?"

"No punishment, Cordelia." Angel assured her. "Go home, stock up on aspirin, and wait and see if the powers fill you in."

* * *

"So," Faith began conversationally a few blocks away from Caritas, "you owe me a lay." Tara snapped her head towards the slayer, speechless.

Faith grinned, seeing the reaction from the corner of her eye. Turning to look at Tara, she raised an eyebrow. "The guy in the lobby you floated away?" She prompted.

Tara blushed. "Ah. I wasn't sure you remembered that. You seemed pretty out of it. I was sort of worried you wouldn't make it upstairs without passing out – and sort of worried you weren't in a really clear head-space for making decisions." Tara added this last in a blur, waiting for Faith to tell her at length where she could stick those particular concerns. She had walked another few steps before realising Faith had stopped. Turning back, she forced herself to meet the Slayer's eyes.

"You actually care, don't you." The normally cocky woman stated with some confusion. "About people. About..."

"...you?" Tara finished when her co-worker trailed off. "Yeah, I really do. You're a friend."

Shoulders tensing and rising slightly in a defensive posture Tara recognised, Faith shook her head dismissively and shoved her hands in her pockets. "I"m not a good friend to have." Faith warned. "And as far as my drinking goes, don't worry about it. I'm still plenty co-ordinated." Sensing she had pushed the slayer as far as she could for now, Tara just nodded.

Starting to walk again, she added, "Sorry. Now I know." Falling into step with the witch ,Faith felt an unusual desire to make conversation. Glancing across at her companion, she asked, "Have you sung for Lorne yet?"

Tara smiled at the thought of the friendly demon. "When I first asked to join the team, Angel had me sing for him. But not at Caritas, and not recently. You?" She finished, turning the question around.

"I don't sing." Faith answered easily. "I think the staying in jail thing sold my intentions for Angel." She finished as they arrived at the bar. "After you." She gestured to the door.

* * *

"You expect me to believe you don't know anything about this?" Angel growled at Lindsey.

"I'm flattered by your obviously high opinion of my information-gathering ability, but believe it or not Angel, not every 'event' that interests demons or makes an appearance in dusty texts is of concern to the firm." Lindsey answered with thinly veiled hostility. "And unless this Subway demon was carrying my business card, I don't know why you're still here."

Putting a hand out to halt the door that was about to be closed in his face, Angel made one last try. "I make my own morals, Lindsey. If I need to, I can make you suffer. I'd better not find out you've been holding out on me."

"You know, after a while,t here are only so many ways yo can say 'tell me or else' Angel. You need a new schtick." Lindsey shut and locked the door, leaving the vampire outside to hope that the rest of his crew had fared better.

* * *

Tara walked into Caritas with Faith close behind her, marvelling as always at the mixed bag of people and demons the bar attracted. Thankfully, while Karaoke was in full swing, the current crooning demon could hold a tune. All Tara's attention suddenly found an immediate focus as she felt a warm hand on her back.

"There he is, over by the bar. I'll ask the questions, you do your freaky mojo thing and lemme know if he's spinning me a load or not." Faith suggested, pushing gently forward in the direction she had indicated.

Tara did her best not to trip over her feet, trying to keep her mind on the job. 'Come on Tara...keep it together. She's just a girl, like any other girl.' She tried as a mantra in her head, but her body wasn't really buying it.

"Ladies!" Lorne effectively interrupted her thoughts. "Wonderful to see you. Come to sing me a ditty? Faith – I know there's the soul of a sultry jazz singer in there somewhere."

"Lorne." Faith acknowledged, hopping up to sit on the bar next to him. "I was actually hoping to make _you_ sing." She clarified, stealing the drink out from under the nose of a drunk and sobbing demon on her other side, removing the little umbrella and taking a sip.

"Honey, that is a rotten pun even for you. Did Angelcakes send you here? Is there some evil brewin'? Cos please, this time, don't let it explode in my bar." Lorne begged, sipping gently at his own cocktail.

"That's why we're here, actually." Tara tried to gently push the conversation along.

"To see if you'd seen anything. About brewing evil." Faith elaborated. "So, have you?" She asked, leaning slightly into the demon's personal space.

"You'll have to be more specific, sweets. I read the futures of demons – are we talking theft, murder, cults, black market trade...? I mean, for instance, this gentleman here," he gestured with his glass at the stage where a new singer had recently begun, "is currently performing an act of pure evil and sadism." He winced at the discordant tones amplified throughout the bar.

"Anything out of the usual, Lorne. Anything that makes your green blood run cold and however many hearts you have feel '_this must be stopped!_'. Or even something that makes you think '_what the hell!?_'" Faith prompted with a not entirely friendly smile.

Lorne sat his glass down on the counter and looked directly at Tara for the first time that evening. "Nothing out of the usual, ladies. Just some terrible singing, a little bit of heartache. Listen, I need to go run a business, here. Bye!" Waving a hand in dismissal, Lorne disappeared into the crowd.

Faith slid down off the bench and stared after him. "Huh." She breathed out.

"Faith...lets go to the toilets." Tara said in a distracted tone of voice, also staring at the crowd where Lorne had disappeared.

Faith turned to look at the witch with raised eyebrows. "I'm not against mixing business and pleasure, but I wouldn't pick you for a public toilets kinda gal." She finished with a cocky grin which quickly turned into a surprised and genuine smile as Tara immediately shot back with an answer.

"You'll find I'm full of surprises. Come on." She gently grasped Faith's arm and tugged her toward their goal.


	8. Chapter 8

_Please see ch 1 for disclaimer and general warnings_

* * *

The toilets at Caritas were somewhat unique. The wide variety of means of demon waste expulsion demanded either numerous disposal methods, or a single all-encompassing one. Caritas had opted for the latter, but the only species that, as a rule, objected to using it was humans. Caritas was primarily a demon bar, but it did serve a number of regular humans, which meant that the small toilet cubicle Tara and Faith ended up in was private, and unlikely to be wanted by anyone else for some time.

"Okay," said Faith, leaning against one wall with her arms crossed, "I might be a bit one-track minded sometimes, but I'm not completely blind – what do we need to speak privately about?" Faith pinned Tara with a look the witch assumed was only a shadow of the one she reserved for vampires and demons.

Tara smiled and cocked her head to one side. "Lorne. You probably guessed something was up, but he was lying to us. But, more than that – I think he knew that I knew he was lying." Tara explained.

"You wanna run that by me again?" Faith asked, bringing one leg up against the wall behind her for support.

"You know how Lorne usually is – I've met desperate sales assistants less friendly than him. But he completely ignored me until he told a flat-out lie – then he looked straight at me. I think he knows I can read people, but for some reason couldn't talk to us about what he knows in the bar." Tara shifted her weight, trying not to bash a knee into the toilet or end up leaning on Faith's inner thigh as she explained. The slayer sighed.

"I'll pay that. Since when do circumstantial evidence and hunches _not_ work out for us?" She asked rhetorically. "So the big question is, where is he planning on telling us? Don't s'pose you get times, dates and places in auras?" Faith questioned hopefully.

"No such luck. I think we'll have to kidnap him outside the club or maybe just follow him after he leaves, until..." Tara trailed off with a grimace.

Grinning, Faith prompted, "Until? You know you want to say it."

"The coast is clear." Tara vocalised with a roll of her eyes.

Laughing the brunette comforted her. "No point workin' for a PI if you can't use the lingo. Hey, do you have a pen on you?" She asked, suddenly serious.

Expecting some kind of impressive slayer improvisation or MacGyver-esque lateral thinking, Tara dug round in her pockets. "Uh, sure, yeah. Here you go." She handed it over.

"Excellent!" Faith crowed. Turning the the cubicle door, she wrote, '_For a moment of true happiness, call Angel_', followed by the vampire's mobile number. Tara snorted and snatched her pen back.

"I always wondered who bothered doing that. Okay. Let's go lurk until closing." Opening the door, the two humans left the cubicle as casually as possible.

"Must you do that?" Tara muttered with a raised eyebrow, as Faith made a show of doing up her fly and winking at anyone who turned to look at them.

"Don't want people guessin' what we were _really_ up to, do ya?" Faith whispered back suggestively.

Laughing slightly, Tara punched her fellow conspirator gently in the shoulder as they crossed the room towards the exit.

* * *

"So you're tellin' me there's been nothing unusual?" Gunn confirmed with his final contact in disappointment.

"Nothin' man, sorry. But I marked out areas on this map where there seems to have been more vamps to kill than usual. Maybe that'll help." His friend shrugged, handing over a crumpled scrap of paper.

"This is a map?" Gunn asked in disbelief, looking at it from a couple of different angles before giving up and staring at his host.

"Yeah, shut up. I drew it. There's old HQ – you'll recognise the rest." The unskilled artist pointed out on the rough sketch.

"Aight, thanks Marko. Be seein you." Gunn made his farewells and strode out, pocketing the map.

* * *

"Faith – could you stop that? It's terrifying." Tara asked, almost begging. Faith stopped with her knife midair above her hand and turned to look at the witch.

"I got mad reflexes. And heal really fast. S'no problem." She responded reassuringly.

"I'd rather you not get hurt at all." Tara reiterated.

Sighing, Faith sat back and threw her knife, burying it in the centre of the five heavy grooves that had been dug between her fingers.

"Fine. Dammit Lorne, takin' forever." She grumbled, looking round.

Deciding to push her luck a bit, Tara leaned forward and asked, "So, Faith. Known Olivia long?" The slayer didn't change her posture or actively indicate discomfort, but because Tara was looking for it, she noticed the girl tense a bit before she casually glanced over at her companion.

"Few years. Haven't seen her in a while." Tara nodded in acknowledgement.

"She mentioned she's probably heading home soon, have you guys had a chance to catch up?" She continued.

Faith shrugged and started to fidget a bit more noticeably. "We talked a bit today." She offered, looking round as if to spot Lorne, despite not feeling any demons in the vicinity.

Nodding, Tara remained silent, aware that sometimes this was even more effective than direct questions.

Standing up suddenly and retrieving her knife, Faith began to play with it again absent-mindedly. Tara winced as the blade spun close to her friend's fingers but said nothing, leaving Faith to her thoughts.

They remained like this for at least another ten minutes before Faith added as if no time had passed, "I dunno. What do you think?" Tara jumped slightly as the slayer broke their silence, trying to remember what had already been said.

"About what?" She asked in honest confusion.

"You know when you got stuff on your mind, like a decision to make, or something that's confusing you? D'you think it helps to talk about it, or just work it out yourself?" Faith explained gruffly, looking only at her spinning knife.

Tara hummed in thought. "I'm not sure, Faith. I mean, sometimes it really depends on the situation. I guess generally I like to get someone else's point of view, and sometimes it feels good just to be able to share something. I also find that keeping secrets that may affect other people is never a good idea." She concluded with a grimace, recalling what her belief that she was a demon had done to the Sunnydale group.

Faith looked confused by this, so Tara smiled and shared the story of what had transpired when her family showed up in Sunnydale.

"Well that's just beautiful, darlin'." Lorne sniffed from the entrance to the alleyway, as Tara concluded with the gang standing up to her 'blood-kin'.

"'Bout time you showed up." Faith growled, having felt him enter some five minutes earlier. "We've been freezing our asses off out here, when we could be out dancin', makin' some serious heat." She complained, grinning at the thought.

"Sugar," Lorne answered, shrugging off her complaint, "you could make heat in the Arctic." He perched suavely on top of a crate and turned from one to the other of them.

"Now, kids, you want to know what's goin' down, and I don't want anyone to know I'm the one who told you – so before I spill the beans, are you sure you actually want to know? Because I can tell you now, you're not ready for this." The singing demon assured them with one of the most serious expressions they'd yet seen. Faith shrugged.

"We never are, Lorne. Just tell us."


	9. Chapter 9

_Please see chapter 1 for disclaimer_

"It's _what_?" Angel asked in disbelief bordering on anger.

"I swear that's what he told us, isn't it Tar? Gave us details and everything." Faith handed over a scrap of paper she had written the salient points on, as Tara nodded her agreement.

"But why does a wedding warrant a prophecy?" Angel asked in abject confusion.

"Ah..." Tara began, trying to wrestle back a smirk, "According to Lorne, that wasn't a prophecy, so much as a figure of speech." She summarised diplomatically. Faith snorted.

"He said," the slayer elaborated, "and I quote, 'saying the appearance of the daemon preceedeth a momentous event' is akin to saying 'Here comes Wes with a book in his hand – get ready to tune out'."

"Hey!" Wesley objected, stiffening.

"I appreciate your explanations, Wes." Tara leaned over, comforting him in a whisper.

"Yes, well." He accepted meaninglessly, obviously still offended.

"Excuse me, but what the hell does that even mean?" Angel ground out, impatient with his employees.

"Apparently, not everything in a dusty old book is a prophecy. Lorne reckons the quote is just some demon taking shots at another kind of demon." Faith shrugs.

"So why are the demons here at all?" Angel asked helplessly.

"For the wedding." Tara tried to clear it up for her boss. "They're helping get everything ready."

"Just for the record," Cordelia jumped in, looking at her nails, "I told you so. Didn't I say maybe it was something nice? What's nicer than a wedding?"

Faith grimaced. "Drilling a hole down through your cheekbone and into your teeth?" She offered.

"Are you sure you're sane? You did double-check the paperwork, right Angel?" Cordelia asked incredulously.

"But seriously," Tara cut them off, with a tern look in both women's directions, "apparently this event is still bad news for good people. This is one hell of a big wedding in the demon world, and with that many conflicting clans and species converging on the same city over the same week, we can expect hellmouth proportion difficulties, apparently."

Heads dropped into hands as an understanding of the situation dawned.

"We're going to get a bonus for this, right?" Cordelia demanded.

"How..." Wes looked dumbfounded, his eyes slightly glazed over, "how do I even begin to research all of them? How do we keep track?"

Faith snorted. "Just open up your demon books and look in the index under 'Montague' and 'Capulet'." She suggested snidely. Looking up to notice everyone staring at her, she paused to think about what she had said. "What?" She questioned defensively. "I watch movies."

"Shakespeare was so much better when you were allowed to throw rotten fruit at the bits you didn't like." Angel mused out loud.

Shaking her head seemingly in an effort to dislodge the craziness surround it, Cordelia muttered, "There's a reason no-one is meant to live that long."

Shooting her a slightly offended look, Angel stood up to draw the meeting to a close. "Alright folks. Keep gathering info and start getting hold of as many and varied spells, protections, weapons, favours, allies... and possibly formal-wear... as you can. That's everyone's priority until everything gets going with this wedding situation. I'll deal with any other jobs that come in. Go get some sleep."

As the group dispersed slowly, most in deep thought, Tara caught Faith's elbow. "There's some research I could use a hand with, Faith." Tara explained at the questioning look she received.

"Research, huh?" Faith ran her eyes openly over Tara's body, returning to her face with a grin. "Sure – always happy to...lend a hand."

"My God, woman!" Cordelia yelled, throwing her hands up in mock despair. "Do you spend all your spare time coming up with these cheesy lines?"

"What's the matter, Cordy? Been a bit wound up, lately." Faith left Tara's side with a subtle wink at the witch and stalked slowly towards Cordelia.

"I'm fine." Cordelia snapped, tensing slightly as Faith got closer.

"Are you sure?" the slayer stood close, and rested a hand lightly on the woman's lower stomach, dragging her fingertips along as she continued walking around and behind the woman. Leaning in close, she spoke close to her ear, "Nothing I can do to help?"

Cordelia considered it for all of three seconds before noticing Tara's eyes which were locked on the woman teasing her. Taking a deep breath, she smiled and relaxed. Putting a hand over Faith's to trap it, she spoke up wryly. "Thanks for the offer Faith – but you're the wrong shape for me."

Laughing, Faith backed away. "Fair 'nough, your highness. Tara – I'm just gonna take a shower 'n change, back down in a minute."

She jogged off up the stairs with two sets of eyes watching her.

Cordelia blew out a shaky breath and turned to look at Tar who was smiling.

"Well done." The witch said. "How tempted were you really?"

Cordelia laughed. "It's been a while." She admitted. "Demon hunting really cramps your social life. But when all's said and done, I really do only go for men. That said – got any spare batteries?"

* * *

"Back and ready for research." Faith called out through a mixture of towel and the hair she was roughly drying with it as she walked into the room, finally flicking it back over her head and draping the towel around her neck.

Not seeing the witch in the main foyer where she left her, Faith followed the sound of humming to the small kitchen. Stepping inside she found Tara in the middle of cleaning the kitchen, listening to headphones wearing a pair of obviously old jeans and a tank top that were completely unlike the witch's usual attire. Grinning at the view, Faith leaned against the doorframe to admire for a second.

She could feel the 'want' phase of her old motto stirring in her body, slightly surprising her. She had propositioned the woman before, of course - from what Faith could tell she was an alright looker although she didn't exactly flaunt it, and the slayer could tell the new member of the crew was attracted to her. But she hadn't actually _wanted_ the witch before, actively desired her.

Faith's musings were cut off as the woman in question turned around and jumped slightly in shock. Recovering quickly and smiling, Tara pulled the headphones off.

"Nice threads." Faith found herself smiling as she said it.

"Oh." Tara blushed lightly. "Just my knock around clothes – you know, for cleaning, or lazy days."

"Should wear them more often." Faith answered, sounding much more sincere and less flirty than she had intended. Pushing up off the doorframe she uncrossed her arms. "So you want a hand cleaning? Or is there still research to be done?"

"No more cleaning. I was just wiping up a bit. Research would be good if you can stand it. Hopefully it won't be too boring." Walking towards the doorway Faith was leaning against, Tara paused and then rolled her eyes and smiled as Faith didn't move, forcing her to slide past closely through the small gap.

The slayer's eyes widened in shock as the plan backfired – feeling soft and hot curves brush against her, the tingles the act provoked shot straight down just below her stomach.

Turning to look at the witch as she walked away in the direction of the training room, Faith stood still for a minute. 'Holy hell...I really need to get laid.' Shaking her head to clear the thoughts, she jogged after the woman who had disappeared down the steps to the basement.

Jumping lightly down the last few stairs, Faith tossed her towel over a pommel horse and tied her hair up in a loose knot before walking over to Tara who was sitting on the mats glancing over a notebook. Dropping in a loose pile of limbs next to her, Faith tried to read the notes at an awkward angle.

"So what's the what? What sorta research we doin'?" She asked, growing impatient. Looking up from the notebook and turning to face the slayer, Tara answered in what seemed like another language.

"Huh?" Faith managed, before her senses reeled and she suddenly was looking down at Tara from four metres in the air. "Ha!" Faith let out a shout of joy and surprise. "What a rush...you could be your own rollercoaster." Faith floated and wriggled experimentally for a few minutes, working out how her centre of balance and momentum were affected. "Can you float me to a wall so I can see what happens if I kick something?" Faith asked eagerly, looking down and back to see Tara smiling at her obvious enjoyment.

"Sure." Tara agreed unnecessarily, as she had already started moving her passenger in that direction. Kicking out as she got near, Faith shot away from the wall in the opposite direction, putting out her hands to take the impact as she shot back to the facing wall. "Like a pool." She commented.

"Try it again." Tara recommended, moving her near once more.

Kicking out, Faith was surprised that her body stayed in place and she left a foot sized dent near the roof of the training room wall.

"Awesome! Why'd that happen? What'd you do?" She craned her neck around and tried to swim her body to follow. Laughing gently at the slightly less than graceful attempt, the witch answered, "It's all to do with opposing forces and energies, but basically I anchored you from two directions instead of just one. I was thinking, if you were interested, if we came up with a system of signals or something and practiced, it might be useful in a fight."

"Hell yeah!" Faith enthused, imagining flying over surprised vamps with a sword in hand decapitating whole rows of them. "I bet you could also fashion a mean push-up bra with that." She shot a wicked grin at the witch, trying to earn a blush.

"Like you need one." Tara shot straight back, enjoying that hey were getting along. Messing around for another half hour at least, Tara eventually started lowering her friend to the floor.

"Hey!" Faith complained.

"Sorry – ride's over. I'm starting to wear out." Tara offered apologetically. As she dropped back to earth, Faith walked over to get a closer look at the witch.

"Magic makes you tired? Hey yeah," she said as she got closer and sat next to the blonde who had flopped onto her back, "you look like you've been for a run or something! You shoulda told me."

"It's okay Faith, it's just like normal exercise – the more you do it, the better you get. It was probably a little bit of a workout for you too – I used some of your slayer power to supplement mine." Tara explained.

"And that would be why I feel like I've been slaying?" Faith asked, leaning over Tara's prone form to test her pulse and see exactly how much like a workout the magic had been for her. Tara's eyes snapped open at the unexpected touch, and her eyes met Faith's who was hovering slightly too close to her. "And why I've got a mad case of the double H's?"

"The what?" Tara asked, slightly breathless. Leaning in closer, Faith focussed on the other woman's lips.

"Slaying," she murmured, "it makes me hungry..." she quickly closed the gap between them and finally made contact, brushing her lips over Tara's before sucking gently on her lower lip. Tara couldn't think. Faith felt incredible against her, and without needing or wanting to consider any further, the witch deepened the kiss the slayer had begun. Lowering her body against Tara's, Faith broke for air. "...and horny." She concluded, one hand starting to move up the inside of the blonde's top as she leaned back to continue kissing her.

"Tara!" They both heard Cordelia's yell and the basement door start to open at the same time, but it was Tara who pushed Faith off with an apologetic look.

"Down here, Cordelia." She called back.

"Some sort of magical pig just appeared in the lobby and is trying to gore Angel, can you come up here?" She asked in a more normal voice, trotting down a few steps to make eye contact. "Hey Faith." She said, just noticing the slayer.

"Coming." Tara pushed up from the ground. "Well talk about this later." She told Faith before jogging away up the stairs after Cordelia. Faith watched until she was out of sight and then let her head drop back against the floor.

"I fucking hate the supernatural." She groaned. Pushing slowly to her feet she trudged slowly up the stairs and observed the strange and awkward battle in the lobby for a few minutes. Weird. Nightcrawler reincarnated as an angry boar. Laughing at Angel's confusion as the animal _bampf!_ed out of his way once more, Faith left out the back door. She was sure the others could handle one teleporting pig.


	10. Chapter 10

_Please see chapter 1 for disclaimer_

_Chapter warning: Coarse language, sexual references, references to sexual abuse_

* * *

"I think I should talk to Tara."

Olivia woke up quickly, but not without a fair amount of confusion. She was used to being on call 24 hours and could get up, get dressed and out to a scene before she was really actually alert. So when she opened her eyes quickly with her face half buried in a pillow and could only see leather clad thighs passing to and fro next to her bed her mind seemed to stall completely.

"She's the kind who talks about shit, right?"

"Ungh?"

"Yeah, maybe not. I mean, she doesn't seem like the kind to spread stuff round, but then she might get the wrong idea."

"Mmm."

Faith dropped down onto the bed and shifted herself up so she was sitting next to the detective's prone rolled over and shifted up slightly, rubbing a hand over her face.

"Now you want to talk? At four in the morning?" She gave the younger woman an amused look. Faith grinned unapologetically, before becoming serious.

"I dunno. I dunno how to do this shit. You do it all the time, but I just...keep moving, you know? I guess I trust Angel, but..."

"Faith." Olivia propped her head up slightly with a pillow. "Tara told me it was Angel who talked you into turning yourself in."

Faith was silent for a couple of minutes. "I guess she is the type to spread shit round."

"She was actually quite concerned for your privacy. Cordelia was the one who first mentioned you did a nickel in LA. Tara filled me in because she said you'd never seemed shy about telling people." Olivia didn't bother to make it sound as if she were excusing the other woman – Tara made her own decisions and seemed more than capable of defending her own actions. But she did want to give Faith what information she could.

"I begged him to kill me. I was so goddamned sick of people using me, but then the Mayor – he had his plans, like everyone else, but he was straight about it, you know? He liked me. I offered to fuck him and he just went on some rant about society's morals or some shit. I liked him."

Olivia didn't really have enough context even from what Tara had told her to understand, but she just listened. More than anyone, she knew what talking about something could do to relieve a person.

"And then B wanted to use my blood to cure her honey. Pretty fucking ironic that the only thing that could save him was me dying, right? But I had decided I wasn't gonna let anyone use me anymore. So she gutted me, but I didn't let her take my blood."

By this point Olivia was seriously concerned. She really hoped that Faith was speaking metaphorically. But it had been hard enough over the last few days to get the brunette to talk to her at all, and she knew if she interrupted now she'd lose her chance.

"Eight months later, I wake up from a coma and decide to get pro-active about it. No more being used, I was gonna set up for myself. I ended up in LA partying – a guy got ideas and wanted to use me as his sex toy? That was fine, I knocked him the fuck out and used him for his money instead. But then I realised, underneath it all, when I had no-one using me for anything, when I was free – I was nobody. I've been doing everybody elses shit for so long there was no me left. So I begged Angel to kill me. Shoulda been easy – I already shot him once, tortured one of his friends. But the stupid bastard wouldn't do it. So, yeah. Actually, Tara was wrong. Prison was B's idea. But facing up to the shit I did was Angel's. Just cos it was his idea, though, didn't mean he was using me for anything. He still believes that I'm worth having around, just for myself, even if I didn't work for him." Faith shook her head, no longer looking at Olivia, but playing with a zippo lighter she had dug out of a pocket.

"He's right about that. Don't know that I trust him quite as much as you do, but he's definitely right about that." The detective finally spoke up. Faith just shook her head again.

"Denning..." Faith's voice broke a little and she coughed to clear it. "I'm not that much better than Denning now, Liv. I don't really deserve to be pissed off at him still, yknow?"

"Faith, if Denning tried it on with you now, sounds like you'd give him a run for his money. Maybe you could fight him off. Maybe you'd torture him, maybe you'd make him scream more than he ever made you. But you were a kid. Just a little kid, and you have every right to be pissed off about what he did to you – it wasn't your fault, there was nothing you could do to stop it, and nothing you did to deserve it."

"So why does it make me feel so goddamn dirty to think about it?" Faith ground out. The tension was radiating from her body now, she was clenching her fists so tight it looked like her knuckles may explode under the power of her own sinews. "I've done it with a lot of guys, you know? Some girls, even. All kinds of ways and for all kinds of reasons. So how come doing the same thing with him makes me feel so fuckin' dirty?"

"Because it isn't the same thing, Faith. He forced you when you were too young to understand, too young to cope physically with what he was putting you through, too young to cope emotionally with the secrets and lies. You get taught to trust adults, and he told you it was your fault. Of course you believed him. You might know now that he was a sick bastard who used you, but it can take a lot of time and work to really accept that." Olivia had put a hand on one of Faith's knees while she was talking, and by the time she had finished, she was fairly sure Faith was crying behind the curtain of hair that swept in front of her dipped face.

Olivia sat up properly and gently attempted a hug, ready to be rejected. She wasn't quite ready for the violence that was Faith hugging her back, but she held on, glad that she had made the trip to tell Faith in person.


End file.
